


Mythical Monsters of the Modern Millennia by Samuel Winchester - Chapter 3: Creatures Co-Existing With Contemporary Conveyances  (Working Title: My Brother Loves His Car)

by Zanne



Series: Possessed Car 'Verse [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Humor, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanne/pseuds/Zanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's still trying to puzzle out the power of the car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mythical Monsters of the Modern Millennia by Samuel Winchester - Chapter 3: Creatures Co-Existing With Contemporary Conveyances  (Working Title: My Brother Loves His Car)

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by lyonie17. The Boys belong to Kripke. (Originally posted: 12/31/06)

_Ok, so maybe the car isn’t possessed after all. Maybe it’s Dean_ , Sam thought, studying his brother through the front windshield as Dean reverently washed the glass with the zealous look of a man having an active religious experience. Dean took care of this car like it was a living thing, ever careful of the touch of human hands upon its hallowed frame.

 _Dean might marry this car, if he could_ , Sam thought, crushing the jealous spark under the weight of feigned indifference. Sam’s eyes bore into his brother’s back as Dean knelt down in obeisance to check the right front tire, his gaze going soft as it caressed Dean’s spine, trailing down to find that tantalizing bit of flesh that insisted on showing itself just above his brother’s jeans. Sam’s eyes flicked from that forbidden bit of pale skin to the hulking blackness of the car beside it, the shiny chrome matching the rivets of Dean’s belt as if it, too, couldn’t help but reach out to touch that tempting flash of skin in the only way it could. As if he felt the weight of his brother’s gaze, Dean glanced over his shoulder and gave him an impertinent grin before gracefully sliding upright to repeat the process on the left side of the car.

 _You know_ , Sam thought with sudden insight, _there are stories about this - of creatures bound to an object and who serve it with ritualistic devotion. Dad used to read them to us….  
_  
Sam thought back to those long ago days, dredging for details in the memory of the smell of warm flannel and oil as he unknowingly tilted his head and breathed in the bone-deep scent of his father…of Dean…bound in the leather seats of the Impala. He remembered them scrambling for a place in their father’s lap as they parked for the night at another rest-stop and he and Dean settled in for a story before crawling into the backseat to sleep. _What were they? Some kind of nature nymph? Dryads for trees, naiads for water, oreads for mountains…. Bound to a tree, sometimes an entire forest, or a water source or a mountain…. They had male counterparts. Fauns? Usually female protectors, but male ones, too…._

Sam glanced out the window to see Dean still waiting for the car to fill up, his hand brushing back and forth along the Impala’s shiny fender. The strong strokes of Dean’s hunt-calloused fingers across the feminine lines of the bruise-black car caused a familiar ache to build in Sam’s groin. He could tell Dean didn’t even know what he was doing, his brother’s attention riveted by the mini-skirted figure checking under her hood across the way.

 _Dad once joked that Dean was conceived in the backseat of this car, making it more his than anyone else’s in the universe. Dean was almost **born** in this car – if Dad had driven just a little slower, his appearance on this earth would be soaked into the metal seams that hold the Impala together….  
_  
Sam gazed more thoughtfully at his brother out the front window, his mind mulling over the tiny wisps of memory and molding them for the modern age. _A car is man-made, but metal is of nature. Dean certainly is randy as a goat. Is there such thing as a…what would you call that anyway? Some modern day muscle car faun? A Chevraun?_ Sam snickered to himself.

                                                ~ ~ ~ ~

 _What the fuck is Sam thinkin’ about now?_ Dean wondered, noting the blank expression his brother sported when he was pondering something that would turn out to be a pain in his ass. _It undoubtedly involves my car, poor baby._

 __Dean carefully studied his brother’s features, his gaze ghosting along Sam’s cheekbones as he watched how the shimmering sunlight of the late afternoon caused his brother’s eyes to shift back and forth from brown to green, just like the reflection of the endless trees and sweeping fields rippling across the windowpanes as they drove down never-ending miles of open roads and highways, their only amusement the constant animation of the scenery across the darkening glass. _Sap._ When he saw Sam’s gaze coming back into focus, Dean leaned back against the car, jutting his hips forward and rucking up the front of his shirt to flash a glimpse of hipbone before resting his hands on the car behind him. _Now to get your attention back where it belongs…._ Dean upped the wattage on his smile and turned it full-force on his brother sitting so innocently… _yeah, right_ …in the front seat.

Sam’s face lit up when he saw his brother, his white teeth flashing in response before his eyes dropped to the shadow of hipbone prominently displayed beneath the hem of Dean’s T-shirt, a faint flush sweeping over Sam’s cheeks. _Gotcha!_ Dean chortled. _I should be ashamed of myself…nah. He owes me for that crap I found on my car. What the hell does my little brother get into his head at night to come up with this stuff? He needs to get laid like yesterday…and I’m just the man for the job.  
_  
                                                  ~ ~ ~ ~

Dean recalled a morning just a few days ago, walking out to grab some coffee and noting the faintly greenish paste coating the front of his car. _Sam._ Stalking back into the motel room, he slammed open the bathroom door, disappointed to find Sam already mostly dressed. “Sammy,” Dean smiled with saccharine sweetness. “Could you come with me for a second?” Sam looked ready to bolt, but knowing from experience that the Impala could outrun him, he sidled his way towards Dean and followed his brother outside.

“Could you please tell me, dear brother, do you find my car attractive? Have you been eating too much asparagus lately?” Dean seemed bigger when mama-bearing over his car and used this imaginary bulk to overwhelm his brother, pushing him back against the grille with just a few small steps forward. “Because I am wondering what else might explain this green-tinged spunk all over _my_ car’s headlights.”

“It’s an unguent,” Sam replied helpfully.

“I’m guessing that’s like a lubricant because I can’t even begin to speculate what that shit is on my car,” Dean stated, his jaw tightening when he tried to keep from laughing. _Oh, Sam…you are such a freak sometimes._

Sam gulped at the expression crawling over his bother’s features, not quite sure what might get him out of this. Sam maxed the power of the puppy-eyes and gazed up at his brother from under his lashes. _Holy hell, how in the world does he manage **that**?_ Dean wondered for the umpteenth time. _He’s only seven feet taller than I am and can still manage to do that looking **up** thing with the anime eyes that I taught him when he was five._

Dean sighed, jerking his chin as an indication for an explanation. Sam’s words spilled out in a rush, as if relieved to have permission to be heard. “An unguent is a healing balm or salve, sometimes used in exorcisms. You don’t see it much with the Catholic Church anymore, but other smaller denominations or home-hearth groups tend to believe very firmly in it.” Sam stopped, panting slightly.

“What’s it made of?” Dean inquired calmly, his mind already working on how exactly to manage running over the laptop and making it look like an accident.

“Well, they had some pretty fancy ingredients recorded on the website, so I had to make some substitutions…Crisco instead of fresh lamb lard, with some flour to thicken it and dry it out a bit, rosemary, sage, thyme…oh, and cloves,” Sam listed off.

“Were you planning on stuffing a turkey with the leftovers, or was this just something special for my car?” Dean ground out from between clenched teeth, still fighting the urge to give in and just roll around on the gravel laughing his ass off. _That just might encourage Sammy a little too much…._

“Um…just your car,” Sam admitted quietly.

“And why is it on my headlights?” Dean asked coolly, crossing his arms across his chest, pinching himself every time he felt a laugh bubbling up.

“It’s applied to the main sensory areas of the afflicted to guide them back to God. The eyes so that they might see truly, the ears so that they might hear truly, the mouth so they might speak truly, the feet so that they might walk in the way of the Lord, and to the forehead so that their mind might be open to the word of God.”

Dean blinked, processing this for half a second before he sputtered awkwardly, “Where else did you put this on my car?!”

Sam cringed inside his hoodie as Dean stumbled around to the side of the car, studying the machine before him with the eyes of an expert. “Well, the headlights for the eyes…it’s a car so it really doesn’t have ears, but I put some on the side mirrors anyway since they stick out so much…the mouth was complicated, but I figured the radio, the speakers and the horn, just in case…tires, obviously…and the…engine?” Sam admitted, backpedaling from his brother with years-learned precaution.

Dean collapsed chest first against the driver’s side window and flung his arms across the roof, looking to Sam as if he were hugging his car while moaning something that sounded strangely apologetic under his breath. He thunked his forehead a few times against the rooftop before stepping back and taking a deep, calming breath. “OK, Sammy. I’m going to get some coffee and eat some breakfast. When I get back, I want this…unguent off my car. I’ll bring you back something to eat.” Sam nodded, heading inside to grab some soap and towels, rather surprised at the offer of food. _Wow, Dean’s taking this **really** well.  
_  
 _My brother is gonna **pay**_ , Dean thought to himself, watching the door close behind his brother’s back before casting a mournful look at his car and then erupting into guilty chuckles as he loped off towards the diner.

                                             ~ ~ ~ ~

Sam’s brow furrowed when he saw the laugh lines appear around Dean’s eyes, glancing quickly about the gas station looking for what was amusing Dean so much. _More evidence to support my theory_ , Sam decided when he saw it was empty. _They weren’t dangerous creatures, more pranksters really…you just needed to make sure not to harm what they protected…._ Sam’s eyes widened. _Oh, shit. I’m screwed._

“Ready to go, little brother?” Dean asked, plopping himself gracefully into the driver’s seat, startling Sam out of his momentary reverie. Dean smoothed his palms over the wheel as if molding it to his grip, humming softly under his breath before glancing over at Sam with a mischievous smirk.

Sam eyed him suspiciously. “What’s so funny? Did you stock up on plastic spoons again?”

“Old news, Sam. We’re off to Bobby’s for the week, remember?” Dean looked oddly satisfied, his tongue darting out to touch his upper lip.

 _Fuck, he’s up to someth_ ing, Sam grumbled to himself. _That’s his Sam’s-gonna-get-it look #237. I’ll search his bags when we stop for dinner._ “Yeah, I’m ready,” Sam agreed with a matching smile. _Ready for anything.  
_  



End file.
